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TOPIC | [Closed]Necro-tober creative event!
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Day 10 Disease [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/61935702]Somn [/url] Masters of Disease. Necromancers and their ilk. But they don’t see sickness when they birth it or when they take it in. Because they don’t see me for what I am. No, but our glorious Plaguemother saw. I am the truth of her left hand. The hidden sickness that cannot be stopped. I am her truest son. I remember my brother was overjoyed to take the trials with me. He always was an over-excited little puppy. He wanted so much to follow in our mother’s footsteps and become a perfectly devout paladin. I said I did too. But I didn’t, I wanted her power. I want Plaguebringer’s divine blessing to spread her illness far and wide. I wanted to see her illness sweep through clans and know it was in my power to stop it - or not. I don’t think Tigue knew it was me who infected him. He was already sick. At first, I meant to take it back. He was so weak I thought he’d die if I didn’t take the sicknesses away. I watched him, feverish and rambling with it for a whole day. I kept thinking I would enjoy it just a little bit longer. As I watched the light fade and the long shadows stretch I knew I wouldn’t take the sickness away. Instead, I left my brother to die. The thought still makes me smile. Day 11 eyes Thimble [img]https://imgur.com/cvRt9Om.png[/img] Day 12 Strength [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/56785026]Excem [/url] I knew as a hatchling, my heart lay across the barren earth of Dragonhome deep in the heart of the Scarred Wastelands. I could smell it when the wind came from the south, the rich smell of decay, of struggle and change. My mother would say that my fascination nearly cost me my life as a hatchling. That the winds from Plague carried an illness so deadly I nearly died of it. But it was a Necromancer that saved me. A master of plagues who showed me what true strength was. As he healed me I heard the whisper of the Plague Mother, calling me to her. My mother never forgave me for that. But I didn’t need her to approve. I had been called to serve the Mother of Illness herself, and mere blood was nothing to what swam in it. Day 13 Necroservus [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58835077]Amalasuintha[/url] “How am I different?” I want to demand of him as I watch the new crop of trainees brought into the fort. They are no different from me. Bereft of her favor, only fit to serve Necromancers. Some are Wraiths, beneath her notice, but not useless to her favored. Later there will be Ghouls, weeping, and screaming in pain as they’re herded into pens to have their illnesses harvested and their fates decided. Some are neutralized, others can only be made comfortable as PlagueBringer’s blessing runs its course and claims their lives. All of this I see from the comfort of my Necromancer’s quarters. Where I am a quiet and biddable accessory, taken out when he wants an adornment. I have gone with him to the council, and I have not been able to meet my own father’s eyes nor speak to him as I wonder why he never told me to be a Necroservus is to be a failure, to be nothing. And I do not ask my Necromancer “Why am I different?” Because what if he decides I am not? Day 14 Ghoul [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/62845129]Gytresh[/url] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/dragon?did=62845129&skin=0&apparel=29242,29227,35208,24066,28786,29232,24067,24063,32287,29218,28782,24065,28783,24064,28788,24062,28785,24061,28787&xt=dressing.png[/img] Day 15 Survival [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59920302]Tikva[/url] Patient, they call me. Quiet, faithful, and foolish. Do they think me blind? I know better than anyone what he is. I see parts of him no one else does. The rot goes deep. The fear goes deeper. I’m the one who brings him potions to ease his sleep. And when the time comes - and it will sooner than he realizes - I’ll be the one to make sure he sleeps forever. Day 16 Failure [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59594013]Intangible[/url] I suppose I could ramble about all the ways I’ve failed. I failed to become any kind of Necromancer or even a Ghoul. Just a Wraith, unworthy of any favor at all just hung around the Wyrmwound with a cold for a month. I was pretty depressed of course. You study and train and think you’ll be useful somehow only for absolutely nothing to happen. I admit I wandered around for a while blubbering over it. Until I realized I was free. Free to do what I wanted. I started taking food and drink to the ill during their trials. Some took it and others refused. But that’s how I met my mate. She was helping others heal up the same I was. And she was gorgeous. We talked for days as we traveled around the Wyrmwound. I went to her home and before long it was mine - a place we built together. Now about failures. My latest alchemical experiment seems to make bacteria explode. In small amounts, it rather tickles but I think it could be problematic with larger infestations. I suppose I’ll have to call it a failure. Pity.
Wyldangel
566
592
660
984
October 27, 2020 12:46:43
Day 10 Disease

Somn

Masters of Disease. Necromancers and their ilk. But they don’t see sickness when they birth it or when they take it in. Because they don’t see me for what I am. No, but our glorious Plaguemother saw. I am the truth of her left hand. The hidden sickness that cannot be stopped. I am her truest son.

I remember my brother was overjoyed to take the trials with me. He always was an over-excited little puppy. He wanted so much to follow in our mother’s footsteps and become a perfectly devout paladin. I said I did too. But I didn’t, I wanted her power. I want Plaguebringer’s divine blessing to spread her illness far and wide. I wanted to see her illness sweep through clans and know it was in my power to stop it - or not.

I don’t think Tigue knew it was me who infected him. He was already sick. At first, I meant to take it back. He was so weak I thought he’d die if I didn’t take the sicknesses away. I watched him, feverish and rambling with it for a whole day. I kept thinking I would enjoy it just a little bit longer. As I watched the light fade and the long shadows stretch I knew I wouldn’t take the sickness away. Instead, I left my brother to die. The thought still makes me smile.



Day 11 eyes

Thimble

cvRt9Om.png

Day 12 Strength


Excem

I knew as a hatchling, my heart lay across the barren earth of Dragonhome deep in the heart of the Scarred Wastelands. I could smell it when the wind came from the south, the rich smell of decay, of struggle and change. My mother would say that my fascination nearly cost me my life as a hatchling. That the winds from Plague carried an illness so deadly I nearly died of it. But it was a Necromancer that saved me. A master of plagues who showed me what true strength was. As he healed me I heard the whisper of the Plague Mother, calling me to her.

My mother never forgave me for that. But I didn’t need her to approve. I had been called to serve the Mother of Illness herself, and mere blood was nothing to what swam in it.


Day 13

Necroservus

Amalasuintha

“How am I different?” I want to demand of him as I watch the new crop of trainees brought into the fort. They are no different from me. Bereft of her favor, only fit to serve Necromancers. Some are Wraiths, beneath her notice, but not useless to her favored. Later there will be Ghouls, weeping, and screaming in pain as they’re herded into pens to have their illnesses harvested and their fates decided. Some are neutralized, others can only be made comfortable as PlagueBringer’s blessing runs its course and claims their lives.

All of this I see from the comfort of my Necromancer’s quarters. Where I am a quiet and biddable accessory, taken out when he wants an adornment. I have gone with him to the council, and I have not been able to meet my own father’s eyes nor speak to him as I wonder why he never told me to be a Necroservus is to be a failure, to be nothing. And I do not ask my Necromancer “Why am I different?”

Because what if he decides I am not?

Day 14

Ghoul

Gytresh

dragon?did=62845129&skin=0&apparel=29242,29227,35208,24066,28786,29232,24067,24063,32287,29218,28782,24065,28783,24064,28788,24062,28785,24061,28787&xt=dressing.png


Day 15

Survival

Tikva

Patient, they call me. Quiet, faithful, and foolish. Do they think me blind? I know better than anyone what he is. I see parts of him no one else does. The rot goes deep. The fear goes deeper. I’m the one who brings him potions to ease his sleep. And when the time comes - and it will sooner than he realizes - I’ll be the one to make sure he sleeps forever.

Day 16

Failure

Intangible

I suppose I could ramble about all the ways I’ve failed. I failed to become any kind of Necromancer or even a Ghoul. Just a Wraith, unworthy of any favor at all just hung around the Wyrmwound with a cold for a month. I was pretty depressed of course. You study and train and think you’ll be useful somehow only for absolutely nothing to happen. I admit I wandered around for a while blubbering over it. Until I realized I was free. Free to do what I wanted. I started taking food and drink to the ill during their trials. Some took it and others refused. But that’s how I met my mate. She was helping others heal up the same I was.

And she was gorgeous. We talked for days as we traveled around the Wyrmwound. I went to her home and before long it was mine - a place we built together. Now about failures. My latest alchemical experiment seems to make bacteria explode. In small amounts, it rather tickles but I think it could be problematic with larger infestations. I suppose I’ll have to call it a failure. Pity.
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[b]Day 27: Rot [/b] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/496187037150609409/770760778495164476/RotWings.png[/img] Prion's sad rotted away wings.
Shadari
436
288
1069
2408
October 27, 2020 14:36:02
Day 27: Rot

RotWings.png

Prion's sad rotted away wings.
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[columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58001515][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/580016/58001515.png[/img][/url] [center]Carrion[/center][/columns] [size=4][b]DAY 11: EYES[/b][/size] It was happening again. His eyes… They were moving in their sockets, causing searing pain and mental agony. Ever since he had fallen from the sky, his eyes had been out of his control entirely. It [i]hurt,[/i] it [i]burned.[/i] Every time his power became active, blinding pain took over his skull, leaving him in a state of near-delirium and extreme paranoia. [i]He could see everything.[/i] Carrion believed he could see the intentions of other dragons in this state, but they were hallucinations. At this point, his power was harming him too much for him to discern what was vision and what was fake. [i]And it hurt so much.[/i] He opened them, and the faces of dragons he didn’t know swam into view. They hated him; they wanted to use his power for their own gain. Stumbling to his claws, Carrion cowered away from the hallucinations, using both of his wings as shields. Lights and sounds crashed against his skull, penetrating through the leather covering his massive head, and he bellowed in fear. His tail pounded against the hard-packed ground of the Plaguelands, trying to frighten away what couldn’t possibly harm him. This would last for several days, and Carrion would remain in a sleepless state for those days, petrified. [size=4][b]DAY 12: STRENGTH[/b][/size] He awoke after his episode, groggy. He lifted his head, then immediately put it back down, dizzy. Carrion… was alone. He was always alone; it was how he liked it, and he didn’t want it to change. He had no idea how long his power had been active, and he didn’t know how far away from his camp he was. Normally, he would follow the smoke of the fire he had constantly going, but it seemed that it had gone out. Carrion would have to follow his own scent. Surprisingly, doing this was difficult for any dragon. One became scentblind to their own smell after a certain amount of time, and Carrion was no exception. The great Imperial lifted his head again, opening his mouth and allowing himself to scent the air as deeply as he could. Pain wracked his body, but he used every ounce of strength in his body to force himself to his claws once he caught a whiff of something familiar. Carrion often brewed strong, medicinal teas to keep himself at least somewhat healthy. He bore his scars and open wounds with pride, yes, but the infection within his body would eventually tear him apart if he didn’t do something about it. Harsh and bitter, this was the scent that would lead him home, even while his entire body ached and complained. [i]He would recover. He would recover. He would recover.[/i] [rule] [columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58336776][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/583368/58336776.png[/img][/url] [center]Abraxas[/center] [nextcol][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58336774][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/583368/58336774.png[/img][/url] [center]Morrigan[/center][/columns] [size=4][b]DAY 13: NECROSERVUS[/b][/size] The sound of monotonous Fae banter could be heard in the midst of Trial season. “Oh, no.” “Oh, no, indeed.” “Are you - ?” “I am.” “Can neither of us do it?” “We can’t.” “Oh, dear.” “That’s enough.” A new voice - much less monotonous - butted in. “It’s alright; you can’t recall your infections. I will recall them for you.” Abraxas and Morrigan looked at each other, their fans rapidly flicking in silent conversation. The large Snapper Necromancer that had been overseeing their Trials stepped in, rocking back on her haunches and beginning to concentrate on the two dragons the twins had originally infected. “Does this - ?” “It does.” “We are.” “So it seems.” The Snapper once again interrupted the monotonous banter, this time with a chuckle. “Yes, you two are both Necroservi.” [i]The twins never got old, even if they were rather strange.[/i] [rule] [columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58001515][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/580016/58001515.png[/img][/url] [center]Carrion[/center][/columns] [size=4][b]DAY 14: GHOUL[/b][/size] He couldn’t go back home. He was disgusting; he was a sham. Carrion was angry. He couldn’t believe the Plaguebringer had scorned him like this after he’d done nothing wrong. How could his brother be so blessed while he’s cursed to roam the land until he eventually succumbs to infection, just for being born? This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t [i]fair,[/i] but he didn’t know what to do about it. It wasn’t like he had the strength to fight off this disease, let alone Necromancers, now. He would have to find another way. [size=4][b]DAY 15: SURVIVAL[/b][/size] It was getting harder and harder to hunt now, but he had to. Being alone ensured that he had to hunt for himself. Carrion dragged himself from his sitting position and into the wilds of the Boneyard. There had to be some scavengers out here; there always were. Carrion definitely wasn’t opposed to cannibalism by now - if [i]any[/i] food came his way, he would take it. Ever since he’d been infected, he’d come to prefer meat, and meat only. Before, he’d been able to scavenge for everything and anything, but now… Now he was just hungry for meat; something that had a pulse before it was killed. Seafood counted, but usually sea creatures weren’t filling enough. He had to stick to land dwellers for now. … And there one was. It was an Infestation Hound and rather scrawny, but it’d have to do. It was lying out in broad daylight, acting as bait for some smaller dragon… It wasn’t expecting an Imperial to grab it for food. The poor thing put up a fight, but its neck snapped too easily in Carrion’s jaws. He had his meal.
Frankenfood
0
79
278
292
October 27, 2020 21:29:30
58001515.png
Carrion

DAY 11: EYES

It was happening again. His eyes… They were moving in their sockets, causing searing pain and mental agony.

Ever since he had fallen from the sky, his eyes had been out of his control entirely. It hurt, it burned. Every time his power became active, blinding pain took over his skull, leaving him in a state of near-delirium and extreme paranoia. He could see everything.

Carrion believed he could see the intentions of other dragons in this state, but they were hallucinations. At this point, his power was harming him too much for him to discern what was vision and what was fake. And it hurt so much.

He opened them, and the faces of dragons he didn’t know swam into view. They hated him; they wanted to use his power for their own gain. Stumbling to his claws, Carrion cowered away from the hallucinations, using both of his wings as shields. Lights and sounds crashed against his skull, penetrating through the leather covering his massive head, and he bellowed in fear. His tail pounded against the hard-packed ground of the Plaguelands, trying to frighten away what couldn’t possibly harm him.

This would last for several days, and Carrion would remain in a sleepless state for those days, petrified.

DAY 12: STRENGTH

He awoke after his episode, groggy. He lifted his head, then immediately put it back down, dizzy.

Carrion… was alone.

He was always alone; it was how he liked it, and he didn’t want it to change. He had no idea how long his power had been active, and he didn’t know how far away from his camp he was. Normally, he would follow the smoke of the fire he had constantly going, but it seemed that it had gone out. Carrion would have to follow his own scent.

Surprisingly, doing this was difficult for any dragon. One became scentblind to their own smell after a certain amount of time, and Carrion was no exception.

The great Imperial lifted his head again, opening his mouth and allowing himself to scent the air as deeply as he could. Pain wracked his body, but he used every ounce of strength in his body to force himself to his claws once he caught a whiff of something familiar.

Carrion often brewed strong, medicinal teas to keep himself at least somewhat healthy. He bore his scars and open wounds with pride, yes, but the infection within his body would eventually tear him apart if he didn’t do something about it. Harsh and bitter, this was the scent that would lead him home, even while his entire body ached and complained. He would recover. He would recover. He would recover.
58336776.png
Abraxas
58336774.png
Morrigan

DAY 13: NECROSERVUS

The sound of monotonous Fae banter could be heard in the midst of Trial season.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, no, indeed.”

“Are you - ?”

“I am.”

“Can neither of us do it?”

“We can’t.”

“Oh, dear.”

“That’s enough.” A new voice - much less monotonous - butted in. “It’s alright; you can’t recall your infections. I will recall them for you.”

Abraxas and Morrigan looked at each other, their fans rapidly flicking in silent conversation. The large Snapper Necromancer that had been overseeing their Trials stepped in, rocking back on her haunches and beginning to concentrate on the two dragons the twins had originally infected.

“Does this - ?”

“It does.”

“We are.”

“So it seems.”

The Snapper once again interrupted the monotonous banter, this time with a chuckle. “Yes, you two are both Necroservi.”

The twins never got old, even if they were rather strange.
58001515.png
Carrion

DAY 14: GHOUL

He couldn’t go back home. He was disgusting; he was a sham.

Carrion was angry.

He couldn’t believe the Plaguebringer had scorned him like this after he’d done nothing wrong. How could his brother be so blessed while he’s cursed to roam the land until he eventually succumbs to infection, just for being born?

This wasn’t fair.

This wasn’t fair, but he didn’t know what to do about it. It wasn’t like he had the strength to fight off this disease, let alone Necromancers, now.

He would have to find another way.

DAY 15: SURVIVAL

It was getting harder and harder to hunt now, but he had to. Being alone ensured that he had to hunt for himself.

Carrion dragged himself from his sitting position and into the wilds of the Boneyard. There had to be some scavengers out here; there always were. Carrion definitely wasn’t opposed to cannibalism by now - if any food came his way, he would take it.

Ever since he’d been infected, he’d come to prefer meat, and meat only. Before, he’d been able to scavenge for everything and anything, but now… Now he was just hungry for meat; something that had a pulse before it was killed. Seafood counted, but usually sea creatures weren’t filling enough. He had to stick to land dwellers for now.

… And there one was.

It was an Infestation Hound and rather scrawny, but it’d have to do. It was lying out in broad daylight, acting as bait for some smaller dragon… It wasn’t expecting an Imperial to grab it for food. The poor thing put up a fight, but its neck snapped too easily in Carrion’s jaws.

He had his meal.
USA | +3 FR TIME | ARKIN | IT/ITS | MALE | tumblr_inline_p3ylozTxWL1tc3swm_540.png
Such corruption leaked into my sea!
In my confusion, she broke through the fence.
O; she was patient and sat on my line!
A turning of tide... Was she the prey or the hunter?
SALES TAB | WISHLIST
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Last edited on Oct 28, 2020 09:12:19 by Frankenfood
[b]Day 28: Horror[/b] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/421554060236292098/771125236644708362/IseultHorror.png[/img] Spooky shade shenanigans
Shadari
436
288
1069
2408
October 28, 2020 14:38:36
Day 28: Horror

IseultHorror.png

Spooky shade shenanigans
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[size=4][b]Day 18 - Harbinger[/b][/size] What screams "Plague harbinger" more than a dragon wearing all RoR apparel? [size=2][s]Please forgive me.[/s] [center][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/dragon?did=59240606&skin=0&apparel=938,927,32034,15140,6714,6713,32035,14106,28149,20161,28150,1792,14107,24519,36367&xt=dressing.png[/img] [outfit=1366006] ----- [left][size=4][b]Day 19 - Curse[/b][/size] Sometimes the clan organizes game nights. Other times (usually when [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/55224630]Iaera[/url] takes over), these turn into debate nights. She asks a question, and then enjoys the argument that inevitably starts. The flow of ideas and opinions apparently helps her with her writing. One night, she asked the participants (including most of the clan’s Necros) whether the plague given to dragons by the Plaguebringer during the trials was a blessing or a curse. It was the first and the last time she ever asked such question to them. The [s]debate[/s] fight that ensued was talked about for weeks after that and a reason why debate nights were almost banned by [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/40265315]Midori.[/url] ----- [size=4][b]Day 20 - Cure[/b][/size] [columns][center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/43600221][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/436003/43600221.png[/img][/url] [center]Xarma [nextcol][center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/42103136][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/421032/42103136.png[/img][/url] [center]Lepra [nextcol][center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/43810231][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/438103/43810231.png[/img][/url] [center]Celiac [nextcol][center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/43228279][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/432283/43228279.png[/img][/url] [center]Escherichia[/columns] [left]One of Xarma’s favorite anecdotes is the story of how she, a regular ‘powerless’ magician, had to help the Necromancers cure a disease. She tells it to anyone, who visits the clan to meet with one of the Necros and to every dragon that is guided by them before attempting the trials. About a year ago Lepra was informed about a weird paralysis that had begun spreading in neighboring clans. Their local healers couldn’t help, so they asked Lepra to help them. She of course agreed, as the considers it her duty to deal with any such matters. Therefore, she soon left to look into that situation. Not long after, she sent a message to her son, Celiac, saying that she had not discovered the cause of the disease, and that she had become a victim of it herself. She was still trying to figure out what was going on, but the paralysis would soon spread and take over her entire body, so she asked for Celiac’s assistance. He, being a Necromancer and a researcher, of course agreed. He first gathered all available information about the condition, but eventually he had to follow his mother’s steps, so he took all of his notes and equipment, and was ready to leave. His partner, Escherichia, also a Necromancer, wanted to go with him, but he refused to let her join him. He promised to send her notes about the disease, so that she could also work on a cure from a safe distance. A week later, Celiac informed Escherichia that he hadn’t managed to find the cause of the paralysis, and that it had affected him as well. At that time Lepra was unable to move completely and the Plaguebringer only knew the tortures she had silently promised to inflict on whatever was responsible for her current state. However Escherichia, who specialized in toxins and poisons, had a theory. The paralysis wasn’t the only symptom. The victims also had a very distinctive rash and some of them had reported smelling something acid-like. It reminded Escherichia about a toxin released by a rare plant native to the Emberglow Hearth. Some things were not adding up, and the plant itself would have to digested in enormous amounts to cause such a reaction in adult dragons, but it was better than nothing. She decided to leave, but was met with protest of some of other clan members. They didn’t want her to go and also be affected, but she wouldn’t listen. She agreed to take some magical precautions though. Xarma prepared a mixture and gave her a talisman that supposedly protected its owners from some diseases. And so Escherichia left. As some had predicted, she had been affected by the disease too. But she had also noticed that the talisman felt slightly warm whenever it would touch anyone affected, and she was also certain that the dragons had been affected by the Emberglow Hearth plant. However, whenever she’d tried to pull the toxin out, she would feel some sort of barrier she just couldn’t get through. An antidote she had prepared wouldn’t work either. It would help the dragons for a few minutes, but then they all would go back to their previous state. She sent a note to the clan, in which she also explained how to prepare the antidote, in hopes that it might at least prevent the dragons from getting sick in the first place. When Xarma read her note, she got a familiar feeling. There was something else going on and she decided to leave as well to test her theory. The thing you need to know about Xarma is that she doesn’t possess her own magic. That was the reason for her clan to reject her. She can, however, absorb magic from objects or living creatures and use it later. That’s also the reason, why she’s obsessed with collecting magical objects. Anyway, Xarma left and when she arrived at the clan affected by the paralysis, she could immediately feel powerful magical energy. It was everywhere in the air, she could almost see it vibrating in every molecule. Someone had been smart enough to mix the toxin from the plant with strong magic. Xarma prepared the antidote according to Escherichia’s recipe, and began to absorb the magic from every single sick dragon. Then they were all given the antidote and in a few hours, all of the victims were healthy again. Healthy and angry, especially Lepra. Xarma on the other hand remembers that day as one of the best in her life, she was supercharged for weeks after the events and enjoyed using magic immensely.
Kava
0
148
609
951
October 29, 2020 14:53:50
Day 18 - Harbinger

What screams "Plague harbinger" more than a dragon wearing all RoR apparel?

Please forgive me.
dragon?did=59240606&skin=0&apparel=938,927,32034,15140,6714,6713,32035,14106,28149,20161,28150,1792,14107,24519,36367&xt=dressing.png
Harbinger

Day 19 - Curse

Sometimes the clan organizes game nights. Other times (usually when Iaera takes over), these turn into debate nights. She asks a question, and then enjoys the argument that inevitably starts. The flow of ideas and opinions apparently helps her with her writing.

One night, she asked the participants (including most of the clan’s Necros) whether the plague given to dragons by the Plaguebringer during the trials was a blessing or a curse. It was the first and the last time she ever asked such question to them. The debate fight that ensued was talked about for weeks after that and a reason why debate nights were almost banned by Midori.

Day 20 - Cure
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Xarma
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Lepra
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Celiac
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Escherichia
One of Xarma’s favorite anecdotes is the story of how she, a regular ‘powerless’ magician, had to help the Necromancers cure a disease. She tells it to anyone, who visits the clan to meet with one of the Necros and to every dragon that is guided by them before attempting the trials.

About a year ago Lepra was informed about a weird paralysis that had begun spreading in neighboring clans. Their local healers couldn’t help, so they asked Lepra to help them. She of course agreed, as the considers it her duty to deal with any such matters. Therefore, she soon left to look into that situation. Not long after, she sent a message to her son, Celiac, saying that she had not discovered the cause of the disease, and that she had become a victim of it herself. She was still trying to figure out what was going on, but the paralysis would soon spread and take over her entire body, so she asked for Celiac’s assistance. He, being a Necromancer and a researcher, of course agreed. He first gathered all available information about the condition, but eventually he had to follow his mother’s steps, so he took all of his notes and equipment, and was ready to leave. His partner, Escherichia, also a Necromancer, wanted to go with him, but he refused to let her join him. He promised to send her notes about the disease, so that she could also work on a cure from a safe distance.

A week later, Celiac informed Escherichia that he hadn’t managed to find the cause of the paralysis, and that it had affected him as well. At that time Lepra was unable to move completely and the Plaguebringer only knew the tortures she had silently promised to inflict on whatever was responsible for her current state. However Escherichia, who specialized in toxins and poisons, had a theory. The paralysis wasn’t the only symptom. The victims also had a very distinctive rash and some of them had reported smelling something acid-like. It reminded Escherichia about a toxin released by a rare plant native to the Emberglow Hearth. Some things were not adding up, and the plant itself would have to digested in enormous amounts to cause such a reaction in adult dragons, but it was better than nothing. She decided to leave, but was met with protest of some of other clan members. They didn’t want her to go and also be affected, but she wouldn’t listen. She agreed to take some magical precautions though. Xarma prepared a mixture and gave her a talisman that supposedly protected its owners from some diseases. And so Escherichia left.

As some had predicted, she had been affected by the disease too. But she had also noticed that the talisman felt slightly warm whenever it would touch anyone affected, and she was also certain that the dragons had been affected by the Emberglow Hearth plant. However, whenever she’d tried to pull the toxin out, she would feel some sort of barrier she just couldn’t get through. An antidote she had prepared wouldn’t work either. It would help the dragons for a few minutes, but then they all would go back to their previous state. She sent a note to the clan, in which she also explained how to prepare the antidote, in hopes that it might at least prevent the dragons from getting sick in the first place.

When Xarma read her note, she got a familiar feeling. There was something else going on and she decided to leave as well to test her theory. The thing you need to know about Xarma is that she doesn’t possess her own magic. That was the reason for her clan to reject her. She can, however, absorb magic from objects or living creatures and use it later. That’s also the reason, why she’s obsessed with collecting magical objects. Anyway, Xarma left and when she arrived at the clan affected by the paralysis, she could immediately feel powerful magical energy. It was everywhere in the air, she could almost see it vibrating in every molecule. Someone had been smart enough to mix the toxin from the plant with strong magic. Xarma prepared the antidote according to Escherichia’s recipe, and began to absorb the magic from every single sick dragon. Then they were all given the antidote and in a few hours, all of the victims were healthy again. Healthy and angry, especially Lepra. Xarma on the other hand remembers that day as one of the best in her life, she was supercharged for weeks after the events and enjoyed using magic immensely.
Last edited on Oct 30, 2020 10:42:48 by Kava
[b]Day 29: Festival[/b] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/421554060236292098/771503387589345280/GrishaGala.png[/img] Fancy mask time?
Shadari
436
288
1069
2408
October 29, 2020 15:43:36
Day 29: Festival

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Fancy mask time?
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[size=4][b]DAY 16: FAILURE[/b][/size] [columns][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=91&bodygene=16&breed=2&element=2&eyetype=0&gender=0&tert=31&tertgene=24&winggene=22&wings=173&auth=de06cf0699339ea2f3fc7a918774982b8c6e754b&dummyext=prev.png[/img] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/56746658]Nicolo[/url] before he ultimately failed his Trials.[/center][/columns] [rule] [columns][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/564250/56424902.png[/img] [center]Narcissa[/center][/columns] [size=4][b]DAY 17: MASKS[/b][/size] The Trials, although proven too difficult for Narcissa to pass properly, had left her with the striped marks of a Necromancer. They’d also left her with scars. Her immune system had been compromised since puphood, and she was doomed to fail her Trials, but she had been stubborn. Narcissa was proud and wanted to prove her worth to not only herself, but her clan… and she had failed. Now, she donned the scars of what Necromancers either hated or coveted. Narcissa was a Wraith, and part of her face was exposed to bone due to her Trials. Thus, she donned a mask. It was partially fused to her, aiding her with movement such as speaking and eating. Surprisingly, speech was particularly difficult when half your face was rotted away due to disease. The mask itself was primal, primitive. She crafted it herself - after all, growing up with semi-feral Mirrors taught one a thing or two. It was a declaration of war upon the higher class; “higher class” being Necromancers and Servi. Red, erect feathers were her targets. Necromancers would pay for how they’d treated Wraiths and Ghouls. [rule] [size=4][b]DAY 18: HARBINGER[/b][/size] [columns][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/dragon?did=58001515&skin=1991&apparel=11226,28785,26890,32688,28782,28787,26888,26887,22690&xt=dressing.png[/img] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58001515]Carrion[/url]'s outfit goal. He's going to pay his brother a visit.[/center][/columns]
Frankenfood
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79
278
292
October 29, 2020 19:40:54
DAY 16: FAILURE
dragon?age=1&body=91&bodygene=16&breed=2&element=2&eyetype=0&gender=0&tert=31&tertgene=24&winggene=22&wings=173&auth=de06cf0699339ea2f3fc7a918774982b8c6e754b&dummyext=prev.png
Nicolo before he ultimately failed his Trials.
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Narcissa

DAY 17: MASKS

The Trials, although proven too difficult for Narcissa to pass properly, had left her with the striped marks of a Necromancer.

They’d also left her with scars.

Her immune system had been compromised since puphood, and she was doomed to fail her Trials, but she had been stubborn. Narcissa was proud and wanted to prove her worth to not only herself, but her clan… and she had failed. Now, she donned the scars of what Necromancers either hated or coveted.

Narcissa was a Wraith, and part of her face was exposed to bone due to her Trials.

Thus, she donned a mask. It was partially fused to her, aiding her with movement such as speaking and eating. Surprisingly, speech was particularly difficult when half your face was rotted away due to disease.

The mask itself was primal, primitive. She crafted it herself - after all, growing up with semi-feral Mirrors taught one a thing or two. It was a declaration of war upon the higher class; “higher class” being Necromancers and Servi.

Red, erect feathers were her targets.

Necromancers would pay for how they’d treated Wraiths and Ghouls.

DAY 18: HARBINGER
dragon?did=58001515&skin=1991&apparel=11226,28785,26890,32688,28782,28787,26888,26887,22690&xt=dressing.png
Carrion's outfit goal.

He's going to pay his brother a visit.
USA | +3 FR TIME | ARKIN | IT/ITS | MALE | tumblr_inline_p3ylozTxWL1tc3swm_540.png
Such corruption leaked into my sea!
In my confusion, she broke through the fence.
O; she was patient and sat on my line!
A turning of tide... Was she the prey or the hunter?
SALES TAB | WISHLIST
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[b]Day 30: Harvest[/b] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/496187037150609409/771819184195239976/Harvest.png[/img] Just a scribbly Galen harvesting (or collecting the harvest of) stuff for potions.
Shadari
436
288
1069
2408
October 30, 2020 12:38:14
Day 30: Harvest

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Just a scribbly Galen harvesting (or collecting the harvest of) stuff for potions.
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[b]Day 31: Hallowed[/b] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/496187037150609409/772168717169065994/HallowedCavern.png[/img] A sacred cavern!
Shadari
436
288
1069
2408
October 31, 2020 11:45:40
Day 31: Hallowed

HallowedCavern.png

A sacred cavern!
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Day 21 - Betrayal

‘It's time, wake up!’

Loud and rude growl did not wake Zindiker, because he had not slept at all last night. He was too excited. After 5 days spent in his new clan he was finally about to meet its leader, who was supposed to train him and send Zindiker to the trials. It was the very reason the young dragon was here. His bloodline was strong and the oracles must have predicted Zindiker’s future swift transition into a powerful Necromancer.

He turned to the dragon, a Spiral, who had come to take him to their leader.

‘I am ready,’ he said. ‘Never growl at me like that again or as soon as I pass the trials, I will make sure you do not have the vocal cords to do so.’

The dragon did not respond, but young Mirror could swear he saw a bit of unease on his face. That made him even more exctited. His sudden rush was interrupted when he noticed another hatchling, tiny Skydancer leaving the room Zindinker was about to enter. It was shaking from fear. Zindiker gasped. How was that possible? Was he not the only hatchling who was supposed to undergo the trials? His sudden anger did not stay unnoticed.

‘What is wrong?’ asked the Spiral. ‘Do you feel threatened by that pathetic creature? Maybe you're not so worthy of Her blessing after all.’

Zindiker gazed at the little scared hatchling. No, there was no way it could be a threat to him. He let the air leave his lungs as he closed his eyes and focused once again. Now he needed to prove himself not to the Plaguebringer, but to the clan leader, whom he was about to meet.

The clan leader was definitely a dragon that no one would like to make angry. As Zindiker came closer to her, he felt this strange atmosphere - other dragons surrounding their master were full of respect that was a mix of fear and gratefulness. She looked at him and the Mirror felt her gaze drilling through his soul. She stared at him for a few minutes that felt like ages. Her face did not show any emotions when she turned to the Spiral and said:

‘He will not pass his trials. Get rid of him.’

Zindiker stopped breathing. As the Spiral nodded and approached him, the young Mirror budged.

‘No!’ he said much louder than he’d intended to. The clan leader looked at him with eyes full of anger and disgust.

‘What did you say?’ she asked. Zindiker looked her in the eyes and slowly said:

‘I can pass the trials. I am sure of that. And as soon as I come back from Wyrmwound I will serve you with honour.’

Or you will serve me, he thought. The clan leader did not seem convinced.

‘I will not risk sending to the Rotrock Rim any hatchling that might fail. And you certainly do not seem to have what it takes to become a Necromancer.’ She looked at the Spiral again. ‘Get rid of him,’ she repeated.

Before Zindiker realised what had just happened, he was thrown away to the Plaguelands along with the Skydancer hatchling he’d seen earlier. Apparently neither of them were considered worthy to undergo the trials. He did not know what to think. Abandoned, with small, scared Skydancer following him, he could not be more miserable. For the first time in his life he felt real fear - the Plaguelands are known for their unfriendliness and for vicious and cruel clans inhabiting them. It was also the first time Zindiker did not know what to do next.

Day 22 - Plague

One of the questions Veira is asked the most is why she decided to attempt the trials and serve the Plaguebringer, despite being a Nature-born dragon. She’s always been surprised about how most dragons don’t see how the two goddess sisters are similar. They both worship life, just in different ways. Veira loves being a Nature dragon. She spent most of her life in the Viridian Labyrinth. She loved the colorful flower blossoms, little birds flying around, the insects, and the waterfalls. She still keeps many plants in her chamber, a reminder of her home. But from the young age she has been fascinated by the Plaguebringer too. Most dragons talked about the goddess with anger, disgust, or fear. But in the stories her parents told her, stories about how the Plaguebringer would use her plague to infect and destroy, Veira would see how the life could thrive through that plague. The Nature calls for expansion of life, the Plague refines it. Being a Necroservus, Veira chose to serve the Plaguebringer. But she also serves the Gladekeeper. She considers herself an ambassador in both regions and she hopes that one day the two sisters will make peace and show the world how beautiful life can be, and how it can thrive both in a lively forest, in plants and animals, as well as in a wasteland, in viruses, bacteria, and the creatures, whose lives are all about survival.
Day 23 - Necromancer

As a young Albino Crow, Shimi was trained in combat from young age. She never felt close to the Arcane, from which she had been born, but instead, she always felt the calling of the Plague, her true home. She was close to her family, but chose to travel to the Wasteland half-way through her training, in order to see what she was capable of. That’s when she met Qene, an Effuvial Crow, who soon became her friend and mentor. They were always seen together and formed a unique bond, often a subject of envy among the dragons who met them on their way. Shimi hoped for Qene to tell her more about the Wasteland, in which the latter spent most of her life, but the stories Qene was telling would never satisfy Shimi.

One day the two got met Lepra – a Necromancer. Shimi had heard of their kind before, but until then she hadn’t met any. She was fascinated to learn more and Lepra didn’t mind telling her about Necromancers, the trials, and even a little bit about her life. The Albino Crow was taken by what she’d heard and decided to undergo the trials. And not long after, she became a Necromancer. Ever since then, she’d felt the plague like never before. She enjoyed every second of using her new abilities. And for the first time she felt fully connected to the Plague and there is nothing that can compare to that feeling and that power.

Day 24 - Contagion

The lack of control was terrifying. Merga hated everything about being a Ghoul, she could barely stand the pain, but it was the lack of control that terrified her the most. She was a walking cauldron of disease, spreading the plague to everything she touched. And that meant she could never get close to anyone, she could never have a friend.

She’d begged her familiar to stay away from her until she’d finish the trials, but her Kamaitachi wouldn’t listen. He was a loyal friend and he paid the ultimate price for his loyalty. Merga would never forgive herself for not controlling her plague at that moment. Because a moment is all it took for the disease to spread, to attack her only friend. And then she could only watch.
Kava
0
148
609
951
October 31, 2020 13:37:44
Day 21 - Betrayal

‘It's time, wake up!’

Loud and rude growl did not wake Zindiker, because he had not slept at all last night. He was too excited. After 5 days spent in his new clan he was finally about to meet its leader, who was supposed to train him and send Zindiker to the trials. It was the very reason the young dragon was here. His bloodline was strong and the oracles must have predicted Zindiker’s future swift transition into a powerful Necromancer.

He turned to the dragon, a Spiral, who had come to take him to their leader.

‘I am ready,’ he said. ‘Never growl at me like that again or as soon as I pass the trials, I will make sure you do not have the vocal cords to do so.’

The dragon did not respond, but young Mirror could swear he saw a bit of unease on his face. That made him even more exctited. His sudden rush was interrupted when he noticed another hatchling, tiny Skydancer leaving the room Zindinker was about to enter. It was shaking from fear. Zindiker gasped. How was that possible? Was he not the only hatchling who was supposed to undergo the trials? His sudden anger did not stay unnoticed.

‘What is wrong?’ asked the Spiral. ‘Do you feel threatened by that pathetic creature? Maybe you're not so worthy of Her blessing after all.’

Zindiker gazed at the little scared hatchling. No, there was no way it could be a threat to him. He let the air leave his lungs as he closed his eyes and focused once again. Now he needed to prove himself not to the Plaguebringer, but to the clan leader, whom he was about to meet.

The clan leader was definitely a dragon that no one would like to make angry. As Zindiker came closer to her, he felt this strange atmosphere - other dragons surrounding their master were full of respect that was a mix of fear and gratefulness. She looked at him and the Mirror felt her gaze drilling through his soul. She stared at him for a few minutes that felt like ages. Her face did not show any emotions when she turned to the Spiral and said:

‘He will not pass his trials. Get rid of him.’

Zindiker stopped breathing. As the Spiral nodded and approached him, the young Mirror budged.

‘No!’ he said much louder than he’d intended to. The clan leader looked at him with eyes full of anger and disgust.

‘What did you say?’ she asked. Zindiker looked her in the eyes and slowly said:

‘I can pass the trials. I am sure of that. And as soon as I come back from Wyrmwound I will serve you with honour.’

Or you will serve me, he thought. The clan leader did not seem convinced.

‘I will not risk sending to the Rotrock Rim any hatchling that might fail. And you certainly do not seem to have what it takes to become a Necromancer.’ She looked at the Spiral again. ‘Get rid of him,’ she repeated.

Before Zindiker realised what had just happened, he was thrown away to the Plaguelands along with the Skydancer hatchling he’d seen earlier. Apparently neither of them were considered worthy to undergo the trials. He did not know what to think. Abandoned, with small, scared Skydancer following him, he could not be more miserable. For the first time in his life he felt real fear - the Plaguelands are known for their unfriendliness and for vicious and cruel clans inhabiting them. It was also the first time Zindiker did not know what to do next.

Day 22 - Plague

One of the questions Veira is asked the most is why she decided to attempt the trials and serve the Plaguebringer, despite being a Nature-born dragon. She’s always been surprised about how most dragons don’t see how the two goddess sisters are similar. They both worship life, just in different ways. Veira loves being a Nature dragon. She spent most of her life in the Viridian Labyrinth. She loved the colorful flower blossoms, little birds flying around, the insects, and the waterfalls. She still keeps many plants in her chamber, a reminder of her home. But from the young age she has been fascinated by the Plaguebringer too. Most dragons talked about the goddess with anger, disgust, or fear. But in the stories her parents told her, stories about how the Plaguebringer would use her plague to infect and destroy, Veira would see how the life could thrive through that plague. The Nature calls for expansion of life, the Plague refines it. Being a Necroservus, Veira chose to serve the Plaguebringer. But she also serves the Gladekeeper. She considers herself an ambassador in both regions and she hopes that one day the two sisters will make peace and show the world how beautiful life can be, and how it can thrive both in a lively forest, in plants and animals, as well as in a wasteland, in viruses, bacteria, and the creatures, whose lives are all about survival.
Day 23 - Necromancer

As a young Albino Crow, Shimi was trained in combat from young age. She never felt close to the Arcane, from which she had been born, but instead, she always felt the calling of the Plague, her true home. She was close to her family, but chose to travel to the Wasteland half-way through her training, in order to see what she was capable of. That’s when she met Qene, an Effuvial Crow, who soon became her friend and mentor. They were always seen together and formed a unique bond, often a subject of envy among the dragons who met them on their way. Shimi hoped for Qene to tell her more about the Wasteland, in which the latter spent most of her life, but the stories Qene was telling would never satisfy Shimi.

One day the two got met Lepra – a Necromancer. Shimi had heard of their kind before, but until then she hadn’t met any. She was fascinated to learn more and Lepra didn’t mind telling her about Necromancers, the trials, and even a little bit about her life. The Albino Crow was taken by what she’d heard and decided to undergo the trials. And not long after, she became a Necromancer. Ever since then, she’d felt the plague like never before. She enjoyed every second of using her new abilities. And for the first time she felt fully connected to the Plague and there is nothing that can compare to that feeling and that power.

Day 24 - Contagion

The lack of control was terrifying. Merga hated everything about being a Ghoul, she could barely stand the pain, but it was the lack of control that terrified her the most. She was a walking cauldron of disease, spreading the plague to everything she touched. And that meant she could never get close to anyone, she could never have a friend.

She’d begged her familiar to stay away from her until she’d finish the trials, but her Kamaitachi wouldn’t listen. He was a loyal friend and he paid the ultimate price for his loyalty. Merga would never forgive herself for not controlling her plague at that moment. Because a moment is all it took for the disease to spread, to attack her only friend. And then she could only watch.
Last edited on Oct 31, 2020 18:01:52 by Kava
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